


Grocery Lists, Healthy Butter Alternatives, and a Thousand Domestic Ways to Say 'I Love You'

by Tokine



Category: Final Fantasy XIII-2
Genre: Grocery Shopping, M/M, dorks snuggling on the couch, or lack thereof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:08:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3951814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tokine/pseuds/Tokine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which love is cuddling on the couch and musing over healthy butter alternatives, as well as other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grocery Lists, Healthy Butter Alternatives, and a Thousand Domestic Ways to Say 'I Love You'

**Author's Note:**

> Can you believe I wrote an entire noehopu thing based off of healthy butter alternatives I've never felt so much like trash

Hope once again reconsiders why he has to meticulously construct a grocery list for a mid twenty year old man. Probably because the first time Noel had went without a list he had come home with a slab of behemoth meat and six boxes of marshmallow cereal. So now lists were a required thing that Noel went with only because he got to cuddle Hope the entire time they drew up the list, and as a result liked to put up silly fights for extended affection time.  
  
"There's a sale on some kind of butter," Mentioning this was the first mistake Hope had made. While they were extremely well off due to his status as the director from the past and Noel's side job, they still shopped the sales as a manifestation of their old survivalist habits. While it was near impossible two of the most influential men in the time period would ever go hungry, it was their own kind of rebellion to what their lives had become.  
  
"It's the kind of butter substitute that is near indistinguishable from butter. You won't be able to fathom that this stuff is not the product you've grown to love over the years." Noel has always been explicitly amused with the new developments over the years, but this particular brand name took the cake. And so the only time Noel ever decided to peruse a thesaurus or speak with a level that was relatable to his intelligence level was searching for interesting synonyms for when he spoke about a butter substitute with a ridiculous name. Hope supposed his taste in men could have been worse.  
  
"Okay but how many substitutions do you have for the brand 'I can't believe it's not butter'?" Hope couldn't help but notice how domestic this scene was, cuddling on the couch and discussing grocery lists and alternative butter solutions.  
  
"That's for me to know and you to painfully find out over the years." Hope looked up from the lacing of their hands to arch an eyebrow at the other man. That kind of emotionally charged response, even when laced in humor, was not part of their normal script of teasing Noel and exasperated Hope.  
  
"Is that a promise?" Hope asked, but the question was so much more. Will you always be there? Will you never leave me like the others did? As always, Noel saw what the several hundred year old man was thinking, and as always knew the correct response.  
  
"Maybe 'I can't believe it's not butter' will be our always," Noel quipped cheekily, enduring the subsequent flick on the nose because really, this was a very serious matter that he should be treating as such. Hope just turned his back on the still giggling man, but Noel took it in stride and threw his arm around the currently pouting man's waist. "Babe I know you love that book, you cried when Augustus..." But he was silenced by a stern reprimand in the form of a frosty glare. Case in point, Hope was still getting emotional just thinking about the book. They laid in silence for a while then, Hope lacing their fingers together and apart again, rediscovering every callous and every scar from too many timelines of fighting, cycling from chaos to uneasy peace to chaos again. Indeed, Hope's own hands were practically burnproof, yet they still smelled of charred skin, evidence of the electricity and fire that used to run readily through them. That's all they were, battleworn hands and sleepy eyes, insecurities of abandonment and everyday love confessions- waking up in the morning in the same bed (even if Hope did steal all of the blankets, Noel would never complain. At least Hope was sleeping of his own volition and not just falling asleep on his desk anymore. Noel hoped it was because he had something to come home to now.) Noel's midday runs to the office when he discovered Hope forgot his lunch for the umpteenth time this week, post-coital musings, and every second in between. Two similar hearts, while initially separated by years of chaos, now united under the fears of a foreign time period and the constant reminder they're all the other has left.  
  
So they eat takeout together, and Hope instructs a inept Noel on chopstick usage and etiquette and Noel pulls Hope onto the couch and turns on the movie of the week (usually a romantic comedy. Hope usually cries at the end of regular or sad romances movies, so he saves it for those weeks when they both need a good cry) all the while silencing protests and reminding Hope that he'll only be 514 once, and really he should enjoy it every now and then. Noel also like to tease about the wildly pedophilic relationship they have, because technically Noel hasn't even been born yet and Hope has long since breeched the age of 18, never mind that Noel is a half a head taller (he'd went through the oddest growth spurt when he finally became established into this time period and had access to consistent nutrition) and packed on enough muscle, making him appear as practically a bipedal behemoth. Hope shuddered a little bit there, particularly disliking those nasty beasts and their monstrous attack stats, and muses over finding another metaphor for Noel's downright ridiculous muscle density. But those downright delectable biceps aside, they just worked together, and it was one of the few things he couldn't explain. They were like the old stereotype: the brain and the brawn, but so much more, for just because Hope's strength was a quiet, internal one did not mean it didn't exist, and Noel was wise beyond his years, and what was knowledge of chemical reactions and calculus, really, when weighed against the intelligence of knowing what was right and how to achieve that goal, even when that goal would ultimately lead to his own demise? But somehow, and definitely without any sort of 'blessing' from Etro, he'd survived, and now he was Hope's hope when he needed it the most. Hope's hope, he thought to himself, and inadvertently snuggled back into the figure in question.  
  
"Are we going to go grocery shopping or not?" Hope asks, in place of those three words of devotion he's grown to find difficult to bestow on the people he loves, because the people he loves leave and he's grown to consider his affection a bad luck charm now. His slow accent into sitting up is hindered by the arm locked around his waist and figure behind him that clearly has no intention of moving. Noel looks downright ridiculous, lost in his mop of shaggy hair and his shirt thoroughly disheveled with just a peek of his abs revealed, and then Hope realizes, no, he just looks extremely attractive and not at all ridiculous and he has absolutely excellent taste in men. "Come on, you lazy oaf," Hope chides again, and tries to keep the smile out of his voice. Judging by the stagnant figure in front of him and the shiteating grin on his face, he hadn't succeeded in the slightest.  
  
"Five more minutes?" The younger man asks, but the plea and the grin accompanying it tell two different stories. Nevertheless, Hope complies, if only because Noel asked so sweetly. He was terrible at showing respect to his senior, and it was a habit Hope was using many methods to attempt to break. A certain few methods that were more pleasurable than others, he thought, but quickly quelled those thoughts. If he made any indication about what thoughts had just ran through his mind, there was no chance of them getting to the grocery store today. The older man slouched back into the younger's grip and sighed, facing the other man and letting his hot breath exhale between them. He willed his eyes not to slip shut, but the circles Noel's thumbs were rubbing into his back were undeniably soothing, and he felt his will to move slowly slipping away under the ministrations.  
  
"Only five more minutes," the older man made sure to clarify before slipping his eyes shut. Noel smiled into the other man's neck, but glanced his eyes up at the digital clock. He'd wake Hope up in twenty minutes, and if he seemed well rested enough they'd head out then. After all, the grocery stores and inevitable chores and responsibilities would always be there. This precious man sleeping in his arms was an ephemeral little thing, and he planned to treasure every second with him. He pulled the other closer, if that was even possible, and clicked the light off before allowing his own eyes to shut. It didn't matter anymore, because wherever he went now-the streets of Academia or the fickle hazes of his dreams, he wouldn't be alone anymore. He'd found his hope, in every sense of the word, and he was finally content.


End file.
